


and then there were three

by starkslovemail



Series: earth-207, the stark-rhodes timeline [5]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autism, Autistic Harley Keener, Autistic Tony Stark, Dyslexic James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Gen, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, He Will Get Several Hugs, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, M/M, Married James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark, Minor Character Death, Post-Iron Man 3, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Tony Stark, Sensory Processing Disorder, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkslovemail/pseuds/starkslovemail
Summary: The call came just after midnight.“What’s going on, Keener?” Tony asked, deceptively casual, “You blow something up?”If only it was that simple.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Harley Keener's Mother, Harley Keener & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Harley Keener & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Series: earth-207, the stark-rhodes timeline [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558591
Comments: 18
Kudos: 101





	1. apples and cinnamon

**Author's Note:**

> i am finally posting the taking in harley fic 🗿

The call came just after midnight.

Rhodey and Tony were in bed early for once, having just come back from their three-week honeymoon in Italy. Twenty-one days of love and adoration for each other, every single moment a reminder of just why they cared for each other so much. It was pure bliss, something they more than deserved after the year they'd had.

Between Loki, Killian, and busting terrorist cells across the globe, the two men needed time that was all their own, so they happily took as much as they could get before their responsibilities came knocking.

They were snuggled up together in bed, peacefully asleep when Rhodey’s watch gauntlet sent a series of vibrations thrumming through his arm. His eyes snapped open, and he jerked up, looking for the intruder with his hand raised and ready to fire. Tony startled at the movement, calling a suit before his tired brain could even process the command.

A few months ago, that would’ve meant a suit crashing into the bedroom, destroying everything in its path to get to its creator, but now, Tony had allowed JARVIS specific override protocols to prevent the destruction of his and Rhodey’s Carnegie Hill home.

And like a child waiting for his parents’ permission, Mark 42 stalled at the door of their bedroom.

Tony stared at the suit of armor with a healthy dose of confusion, “And what are _you_ waiting for?” The suit didn’t budge, and Tony frowned, sleepy annoyance trickling into his voice. “JARVIS, what do I need a suit for at ass o’clock in the morning if you won’t let me put it on?”

Rhodey was fiddling with his watch gauntlet, shifting through scanners with a thoughtful frown. “Nothing’s going on with either of our families. Pepper and Happy are fine too.”

“… JARVIS?” Tony asked, stamping down his nervous energy.

In the back of his mind, Tony knew that there was no way their home had been compromised. They had had this townhouse since they graduated MIT, and they'd managed to keep it hidden even when Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was out to expose them.

Despite how safe Tony _knew_ they were, he couldn’t let go of the sneaking suspicion that something wasn’t right.

 _“Harley Keener is on the line,”_ JARVIS’s voice was steady but urgent, _“I do not know the reason why, but it’s well past the bedtime of someone so young.”_

Tony relaxed at the name, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. A hint of a smile twitched across his face as he and Rhodey settled back into bed, “Must’ve been in that workshop of his and lost track of time.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Rhodey mused, a smile on his face as he gently tugged Tony closer to him. “Patch him through, JARVIS.”

 _“Tony… Rhodey?”_ Harley’s voice echoed through the room, a weird quality to his voice that put both men on alert again.

“What’s going on, Keener?” Tony asked, deceptively casual, “You blow something up?”

If only it was that simple.

 _“My mama fainted in the diner, and she didn’t wake up, and so now Aunt Mellie’s taking me and Lexie to the hospital,”_ the words tumbled out in a single breath, and the pause after was stilted. Harley’s voice was smaller after, quiet in a way Tony had never heard in all of his and Rhodey’s visits over the past few months, _“Can… can you come? I don’t know what to do.”_

“Already on the way, kid,” Tony promised. He looked to his husband, and the man was already out of bed and tugging on an Air Force crewneck, tossing another to Tony before he called his suit with his watch.

Rhodey’s voice was gentle and soothing as he spoke to the boy, a stabilizing force Tony had come to rely on, “Do you know the name of the hospital, Harley?”

Mark 42 broke down as the Iron Patriot suit made it to the doorway. Rhodey met his suit halfway, stepping in while Harley asked someone where they were going.

The reply was muffled by distance and the boy’s clothing, but Tony could tell that it was sharp and stressed. He and Rhodey share a concerned glance as Harley muttered out a _sorry, Aunt Mellie._ _“She’s at Fort Sanders,”_ Harley said, voice quieter than before, thick in the telltale sign of holding back tears. _“Are you gonna come?”_

“We'll break the sound barrier,” Rhodey promised.

The two men did just that as the call ended, blasting off into the night.

Abigail Keener was in Room 403.

The first thing they saw after stepping out of the elevator was Harley. He was sitting on the bench outside his mother’s room, sitting on his hands as his left foot thudded out a steady rhythm against the leg of the bench. The elevator chime made the boy flinch as he stared off into space, and Jim's heart was already breaking.

The two took large strides down the hallway, Jim’s mind drawing dangerous parallels with each step. Tony, scared and small and burying his parents days before Christmas, and Harley, scared and even smaller and _please, dear God,_ don’t take away this child’s mother during _Easter_.

“Harley?” Jim's voice was quiet and steady as he spoke, careful not to spook the boy.

Harley’s head still snapped up all the same, eyes wide and unfocused. He blinked wildly before he steadied his gaze on Tony and Jim. His mouth dropped open a little bit, and the shock made Jim's heart ache even more. “… You came?”

“Of course, kid,” Tony said, his voice overwhelming fond despite the forced casualness. Jim knew just how much his husband cared about Harley, even though he was still awkward in showing it. “Mind if we scoot you over?”

It took a while for Harley to shakily nod, like his brain was stuttering and unable to process everything it was trying to take in. Jim took the small, hesitant movement as his cue to cross the rest of the distance and sit next to Harley on the bench.

After moving over, Harley’s leg was kicking the air, and he frowned when he realized he was getting the wrong type of sensory input.

Tony quietly settled in on his other side. He pulled out a small, gear-based, fidget cube, giving each part careful spins and presses to make sure it wasn’t too stiff. Sharing a glance, the two men worked in tandem. 

With a few careful tugs, Jim freed Harley’s hands out from under him. Before he could react, Tony dropped the fidget cube into his waiting hands, “That’ll be much more fun than cutting off the circulation in your wrists, Keener, I can promise you that.”

Harley’s hand automatically began to work the small metal contraption, and as the gears began to spin, his foot slowly came to a stop.

They stayed like that for a while, both waiting until Harley settled, a steady rhythm of small whirs and clicks coming from the cube.

After a few minutes, Tony broke the white noise with a simple line of questioning. “Is your sister still here?”

“Yeah,” Harley nodded, still focused on the small device in his hands.

“Bathroom?”

“Yeah,” another nod.

“So, Aunt Mellie is in there with Mom,” Tony filled in the gaps.

“Yeah,” a third nod accompanied by a rather intense spin of one of the gears. It was the only hint that something about that was stressing Harley out.

“Have you seen her yet?”

“Yeah,” thankfully, another nod.

“Anyone told you what’s going on?”

Harley paused, his head cocking to the side of its own accord. He frowned, like he wasn’t sure what the right answer was supposed to be, like the wording of the question wasn’t quite right for his brain to process at the moment. His frown deepened when he realized he didn’t have an answer, and he looked to Jim helplessly.

Jim rephrased the question easily, voice becoming even softer as it set in just how out of it Harley was, “Has anyone mentioned any tests?”

Harley perked up when he realized he could answer it, nodding a bit before he dropped back down again when he realized what his answer was. “Doctor’s talking inside.” He frowned, looking down at his fidget cube sourly, “Couldn’t stay. Too bright.”

Jim pulled the kid closer to him, rubbing calming circles into his back.

“We’ll find out for you,” Tony promised.

“I grabbed you some water, Harley,” a young voice announced, concern evident in the soft, Southern lilt.

When Jim had first heard the story of how Tony had met Harley, the casual mention of a sister with a limited edition Dora the Explorer watch had painted a particular picture in his mind of a little girl, six years old at best, who followed her older brother around their small town and was probably missing one of her two front teeth. Maybe she’d have the same cheeky little grin he’d seen on Harley’s face in the small smattering of local articles about his achievements, a budding Southern belle who kept the town on its toes just as much as her brother.

The grin was the only thing Jim had been right about.

Lexie wasn’t Harley’s kid sister.

She wasn’t even his sister, not technically. It turned out that Lexie was Harley’s _cousin._ And that surprise had come second to Harley’s casual revelation that she was two years _older_ than him. She’d kept the Dora watch for some unknown sentimental reason that Harley was too young to remember.

The two had grown up in the same house and were so close that Lexie might as well have been Harley’s older sister. If Jim didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference with the way the young teen pressed the styrofoam cup into Harley’s hands, unwilling to take no for an answer. “You've gotta stay hydrated.”

Jim prepared to slide over on the bench and give up his place next to the boy, but Lexie was content to plop down on the tiled floor right in front of her cousin. Her eyes flickered over Jim and Tony in a quick, knowing evaluation before they rested on Harley’s, gaze softening, “She’s gonna be okay, Harls.”

Harley nodded distantly, like he didn’t quite believe it and was only going through the motions for their sake. He drank the water at his cousin's prodding, but it did nothing for him.

Lexie frowned, scooting the slightest bit closer, “Look at me, Harley Joe.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on his legs and propping her head up on top. She waited until he met her eyes, fingers lightly tapping the sides of his thighs until he looked down at her. “Your mama’s gonna be _fine._ The doctor’s gonna come out and say she needs to eat more, and then we’re all gonna go home.”

Lexie seemed so sure of herself that Jim wanted to believe it himself, but then the door to the room across from them opened.

Two women stepped out, one in a white doctor’s coat and the other in a dark red suit. The second woman had the same smattering of freckles and curly brown hair Lexie had, and Jim could easily peg her as Aunt Mellie. He stood to introduce himself while Tony stayed on the bench with Harley, arm wrapped around him securely.

Before Jim could say anything to the woman, her eyes flickered around the hall with the same knowing look her daughter had used earlier. She settled her gaze on Tony, a slight frown settling on her face, “I wondered who he was calling.”

“And we wondered who Aunt Mellie was,” Jim took a step forward, a pleasant smile on his face. He offered his hand to shake, “James Rhodes.”

“Madeline Keener,” she took Jim’s hand and gave it a firm shake before looking to his husband, frown deepening ever so slightly. “And you must be the infamous Tony Stark.”

Tony waved his free hand, an unflappable grin on his face, “Guilty as charged.” He pulled Harley closer to him, giving the boy a comforting squeeze when he turned into the touch, “Forgive me if I don’t stand, the kid was in desperate need of a hug.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you showed up, isn’t it?” Madeline’s smile was as tight as her question was rhetorical—painfully so. After a beat where she held Tony’s eyes in a wordless stare down, she switched gears to cast her daughter an exasperated deadpan. “Lexie Grace, _what_ are you doing on the floor?”

Lexie gave a guilty wince, “Talking to Harley?” At the look her mother gave her, she gave a small sigh and got up, “But I can _totally_ do that from a non-floor location.”

“Excuse me, what exactly is the familial relation here?” The doctor spoke up, her eyes darting between Tony, Harley, and Madeline as she tried to connect the dots. “Is Mr. Stark his _father?”_

“If that means I can find out how Abby’s doing, then yes,” Tony replied without missing a beat.

Jim held back a groan, “Tones, this is not the time to lie.”

“I didn’t lie, I just offered a conditional statement to describe my potential behavior,” Tony said, eyes twinkling with mischief even in this situation. “If anything, I’m being honest, and you should be proud of me.”

The doctor turned to Madeline, brow raised, “Would you like to discuss this privately?”

Madeline rolled her eyes, “They’re fine.”

The doctor gave a small sigh before addressing the group, “In that case, I am Dr. Anderson with Internal Medicine. Ms. Keener raised some concerns when her medical history was being taken, so we elected to perform an upper endoscopy.”

“Endoscopy?” All heads whipped to the bench to see Harley staring at the doctor unflinchingly, fingers methodically spinning the gears on the fidget cube.

Dr. Anderson’s eyes flickered down briefly to the cube in Harley’s hands, and her entire demeanor changed. Jim held back his grimace when her language became simpler, making a judgment about Harley he knew she would come to regret. “Your mom’s stomach was hurting, so we used a special camera to look inside.”

“Said that before. Different words,” Harley frowned at her, disappointed. If he noticed the way Dr. Anderson’s eyes widened at being called out, he didn’t react, just continued to work at the fidget cube while he put together what he wanted to say, “Endoscopy. Why?”

“I'd answer the kid if I were you, Doc,” Tony gave the woman a pointed look.

Dr. Anderson flushed lightly before squaring her shoulders and starting over, trying a different tactic, “Has your mom been getting sick lately?”

Harley nodded, frown deepening, “Tired. After work.”

“She told us that,” Dr. Anderson agreed. “We were checking to see if there was anything in her stomach that could make that happen.”

“Like what?” Harley asked, head cocking to the side curiously.

Jim and Tony met each other’s eyes briefly. Harley was a social engineer on his best days, they both knew that. But tonight, Harley’s brain was stuttering due to stress and overstimulation, and he couldn’t see that the doctor was purposefully trying to avoid a direct answer.

 _“Cancer,_ Harley, they looked for cancer,” Madeline snapped, stressed and tight and wanting nothing to do with this conversation anymore.

The air sucked out of the hallway.

Harley, mind still working overtime to deal with all the stimulus his brain was taking in, only blinked up at his aunt, eyes as wide as ever, “Oh.” His face contorted oddly before he looked to the doctor, “Cancer?”

Dr. Anderson smiled sadly at Harley, trying to keep the hope alive, “We took a tissue sample, a tiny piece of her stomach, to be analyzed. We don’t have the results, so we don’t know yet.”

 _“...Cancer?”_ Harley asked again, an increased emphasis on the word as he pushed for more because he was nothing if not bold.

It was at this point that Dr. Anderson realized she was fighting a losing battle by not being direct with Harley Keener.

Jim noted the way she drooped ever so slightly, likely abandoning all the training she had received about addressing the children of patients. She finally looked to Harley like he had the awareness to handle the explanations she would have only told someone much older. “There were some things we saw that were concerning, and gastric cancer would be the most likely cause. We won’t know for sure until we get the results back, but it does look to be heading in that direction.”

Harley’s face only contorted slightly as he frowned. He looked down at his hands for a few seconds before looking back up, “Go in?”

“Of course,” Dr. Anderson nodded. “Just make sure to mind the machines, okay?”

Harley nodded, sliding off the bench. Lexie joined him, and one of his hands fell away from the cube to slip into hers. The trio of adults parted for them to enter the room, but before they did, Harley turned to Jim and Tony, “Stay?”

“As long as you want us to,” Jim promised.

Harley nodded quickly, “Stay.”

Tony grinned, “Not even Pepper can keep us away, kid.”

The promise made Harley give the two of them a small smile before he and Lexie entered Abby’s room.

As soon as the door closed, Tony turned to Dr. Anderson, serious as he’d been all night, “So, how sure are you about this gastric cancer?”

The way the doctor’s face darkened did not bode well.

Harley’s mama was in a box.

A too-small box with white walls and a single window off to the side.

Harley knew that he’d once read something about windows and healing, and he tried to remember what it was because there was no doubt in his mind that his mama was sick. She would be spending a lot of time in the hospital, so Harley _needed_ to remember what it was about windows and healing, but Harley _couldn’t_ remember what it was, and it was making his head hurt more than all the bright lights in this stupid box that he didn’t want to be in but _had_ to be in if he wanted to see his mama.

Harley knew he should’ve expected the pain since he’d been in the box earlier, before his mama had gotten testing done, but his head hadn’t nearly hurt as much back then as it did now. It was getting worse as time went on, and it was steadily getting harder for him to focus. He felt tears come to his eyes because _why was everything so hard all of a sudden?_

In the back of his senses, he could feel Lexie Grace squeezing his hand, but it was so far away that he could barely register it over the beeping of the machinery that pierced his head in time with the throbbing caused by the lights.

And when the smells in the room caught up with him, it was over.

Everything smelled so _wrong._

Normally, Harley’s mama smelled like apples and cinnamon because she baked pies all throughout her night shift at the diner, expensive vanilla perfume that Aunt Mellie had been buying her every Christmas since she was sixteen years old, and the homemade rice krispie treats that they would make together every Sunday afternoon for his and Lexie Grace’s lunches that week. He knew exactly what his mama smelled like, but somehow, she was inside the white box and it smelled _nothing_ like her.

It was sterile and clean, something sharp that tickled his nose in the worst way, a prickling that stabbed at him and wouldn’t go away no matter how much he tried.

Harley didn’t realize just how much needed his mama’s scent, how much he looked for it when his senses started to get wonkier than usual and his brain glitched. Suddenly, he couldn’t keep up with everything going on around him, and he knew the three scents that made up Abigail Keener were supposed to be there, but they _weren’t,_ and Harley didn’t like any of this one bit because it wasn’t _fair._

Today hadn’t even started out like one of his Bad Days.

Harley was usually able to tell when things were doing to be Bad because the world would feel even louder than usual from the moment he woke up, colors would be sharper, and Aunt Mellie wouldn’t say anything when he brought a blanket to breakfast. But this morning, Harley had been _fine_ and now he _wasn’t,_ and that was so incredibly unfair he couldn’t put it into words.

Harley tried to look at his mama, and the tears were about to spill over onto his cheeks because it was all so _wrong._ She looked so tiny and fragile in that bed, all of the white washing her out so that she seemed like a ghost of a person.

But then she smiled at him softly, and it was so incredibly _right_ despite being in a scenario that was so incredibly _wrong_ that Harley didn’t know what he could _do_ other than cry.

When she saw the tears spilling over his cheeks, his mama made a gentle, cooing sound at him that should have been embarrassing but wasn’t, “Come here, baby.”

Harley went without protest, abandoning Lexie Grace’s hand before he even realized he was doing it.

The last time he’d been in the box, Harley hadn’t been allowed to touch his mama. It had been a painfully quick visit because the longer he stayed, the more the lights hurt his eyes. That meant that things were going to get Bad because Harley had nothing to counteract his senses going into overdrive but his own body.

With the way his chest had been tightening the more he looked at his mama, it probably wouldn’t have ended well.

But now, things were definitely Bad, but Harley didn’t just have his body. He had his mama and Tony’s cube and Lexie Grace’s hand, and that was better than nothing, right?

So, Harley went straight into his mama's arms. They melted together seamlessly despite the monitors and machinery. When he caught the faintest whiff of apples and cinnamon, he burrowed into her even more because the world was too much right now, and he _needed_ the grounding presence that was his mama because he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.

In the back of his awareness, he knew that his mama and Lexie Grace were talking to each other, but he couldn’t register the conversation. His brain wasn’t ready to interact with the rest of the world just yet, and all the talking in the hallway had drained him dry. The steady, rhythmic circles his mama was rubbing into his back, grounding him in the present before he tipped over into a full meltdown, promised Harley he didn’t have to say anything until he was ready to.

Harley didn’t know how long it took, but eventually, the tears stopped. He gave a small sniffle and held his mama a little bit tighter, fear trickling in as his brain caught up with everything that had been going on.

_Cancer._

Harley didn’t have a lot of experience with cancer. He didn’t think he’d ever _need_ to have experience with cancer.

But now his _mama_ had cancer.

The doctor had tried to soften the blow, tried to make it seem like it wasn’t a certainty, but Harley knew better. It had clicked for him when she said they’d taken a sample. Something about her body language had just been _off,_ like she had only been telling half-truths.

She had to have seen something in the endoscopy that made her sure, something so bad it couldn’t be denied.

Harley looked up, trying to see if he could figure it out for himself, but he was met with his mama looking down at him knowingly.

“I know that look, Harley Joe,” his mama had a small smile on her face, amusement shining through easily. He flushed guiltily, but it only made her smile brighter. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

Harley quickly looked away, “Nothing,”

His mama had the audacity to laugh at him. She was in a hospital bed because she had _cancer,_ and she was _laughing at him._ “It’s never nothing with you, Harley.”

“Yeah, you never know when to shut up,” Lexie Grace chimed in, her voice teasing as she finally made it through the filter in Harley’s brain.

“And we love that about you,” his mama assured him. “So, when you’re ready, tell us what’s going on in there, okay?”

Harley took a few seconds to steel his nerves and find the words he needed. The doctor had tried to lie to him, but he knew his mama never would, no matter how bad it was.

And this was Bad.

“… Are you dying?”

“So, she’s dying,” Tony said blankly, trying to stamp down his annoyance.

It was one of the main reasons he couldn’t stand hospitals: the bullshit that surrounded everything.

People already danced around sensitive topics in everyday life to an annoying degree, but once hospitals got involved, once _death_ got involved, it turned into a five-minute tap number that put King of New York to shame.

He hated it when it happened with Jarvis and Ana, and he hated it now.

“Mr. Stark—” Dr. Anderson began, but Tony didn’t give her the chance to continue.

“No, no, you said stage three, potentially stage _four_ gastric cancer,” Tony reminded her, irritation building within him. He didn’t have time or the patience to dance around something so deadly. “Until Abby starts treatment, that’s pretty much a one-way trip.”

“And if you feel comfortable telling us, you should have told the kids,” Tony felt Rhodey step closer to him, a comforting presence as he chastised the doctor. “He’s right, this isn’t as up in the air as you made it seem when they were still here.”

“Mr. Stark, Colonel Rhodes, I understand your concern, but—” And again, Tony couldn’t let her finish.

“You know, I don’t think you _do,_ Doc.” Because Tony had seen the way Anderson had judged Harley, and it made his stomach churn with something so awful he couldn’t put it into words. “If Harley catches on to you actively withholding information about his _mother,_ which he definitely did, he’s not going to trust you to tell him the truth in _any_ of this.” He looked to his husband and shrugged helplessly, “When will people learn that you don’t lie about moms?”

“Hopefully today,” Rhodey replied dryly, directing a pointed look in Anderson’s direction.

“Okay, but what _I_ want to know is what’s going to be _done,”_ Madeline cut into the conversation, all business and tightly wound-up stress. “How soon can treatment be started? What are our options?”

“Once we determine the staging, we’ll have more concrete answers on how to proceed,” Anderson replied. She looked between Rhodey and Tony, hesitating briefly before directing her full attention to Madeline, “You’ll be kept updated as we learn more.”

As the doctor said her goodbyes, Tony took a moment to evaluate Madeline Keener.

She reminded him of Pepper or Janet, put together in a way that seemed near inhuman. There wasn’t a single hair out of place, and she held herself in a way that radiated both power and a natural confidence not many people had. All of the Keeners seemed to have it though: the same, easy confidence that hinted at how they were meant for something greater than their small town.

But that didn’t stop Tony from seeing just how _stressed_ Madeline was. Despite the picture-perfect appearance, it seemed to radiate off her in waves. There was an unmistakable tension there Tony couldn’t ignore, and it made him itch at the place his arc reactor used to be as he tried to decide whether or not it was his place to say something.

Madeline looked up from her phone, frowning lightly. When she caught him staring at her, she held his gaze. Standing at her full height, she raised an unimpressed brow. “Something to share with the class?”

Tony blinked, properly flustered but undeterred, nonetheless. “Whatever Abby's treatment costs, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Oh, I know, Mr. Stark,” she nodded, secure in the declaration. “I’ve always been able to take care of my sister, and that’s not going to stop now.” Tony made a move to say something, but Madeline raised a hand, cutting him off, “No, your pity money will not be necessary. I am more than capable of paying.”

Speechless, Tony replayed the last few seconds, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong because he obviously had.

“We're here to support you,” Rhodey assured her quickly, “and that support can look however you want it to.” He held up his hands non-threateningly. “You call the shots, and we’ll back you up. No questions asked.”

Madeline started at Rhodey carefully, evaluating him with the same, knowing gaze her daughter had used on them earlier.

“Lexie has choir until five, but Harley gets out of school at three,” she said finally. Her tone of voice matter of fact, but there was extra meaning in her words, a hidden question she was asking in the only way she could. “He'll want to come here first thing, but I work late. I won’t be able to adjust my hours for a few days.”

“We can take him,” Tony said quickly. “And we can keep him busy until you get back.”

 _“Every day?”_ Madeline raised a disbelieving brow. “Don’t you run a company?”

He shrugged in reply, “Technically, but I set my hours and have a kickass COO who does most of the running.”

Without missing a beat, Madeline turned to Rhodey.

“We’re both essentially working part-time until Easter,” Rhodey explained easily. “After everything that happened with the Mandarin, we figured we earned the extra honeymoon time.”

“And you want to spend the remainder of that time babysitting a _ten-year-old.”_

“A _smart_ ten-year-old,” Tony tacked on. When Madeline only stared back at him dryly, severely unimpressed with his existence, Tony redirected his energy.

“Last year, the only place that hosted more Make-A-Wish visits than Stark Industries was _Disneyland.”_ Tony’s personal philanthropic work wasn’t something he mentioned often, but unbridled honesty was his best bet with Harley’s aunt. “I might not look like it, but I've got experience with kids.”

“Your nephew will be in good hands, Madeline,” Rhodey promised gently.

Madeline stared at them for a moment longer, a heavy consideration in her green eyes as the silence spread through the hall. Finally, the pressure released, and she let out a short exhale as lingering tension left her body.

Her quiet, grateful acceptance spoke volumes.


	2. and sea turtles too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re _sad,”_ Harley said, emphatic in his panic, big blue eyes filled with concern. “You weren’t sad when I left. Why are you sad now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello! welcome to chapter two: electric boogaloo 
> 
> just a reminder! rhodey and tony talking about "taking off shoes" is their code for honest and vulnerable conversation! there's a [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20602484) about the idea you can read, but that's the gist if you don't wanna!
> 
> enjoy part two!!! 💛💫

A few days passed.

Rhodey and Tony quickly fell into a schedule. They would work in the morning, having set up shop in a hotel thirty minutes out from Rose Hill. It was mostly meetings and reviews, but occasionally Tony would catch himself sketching out designs for random tech he dreamt up. A little after noon, they would break for lunch and head into town. Whichever Rose Hill resident they stumbled on would tell them stories about the Keener family until it was time to pick up Harley and take him to see his mom.

No matter how long the visits were, they always felt too short. It was an act of cruelty to separate Harley from his mom, and Tony felt like an ass every time he made the boy say goodbye.

Whenever they got back to Rose Hill, Rhodey and Tony would steer Harley towards the shed and keep him busy until Madeline came back in the evening. Lexie would drop in at times, but it was usually just the three of them working on whatever Harley dreamt up.

“He’s looking pretty good, spud,” Tony said, a fond smile in his voice as he looked down at the boy happily maneuvering his new creation around the shed.

Today, he’d ended up designing a drone. It was shaped like a sea turtle and docked in a charging station that made it look like little more than a mechanical sculpture to the untrained eye, but Harley had giggled with glee when he’d made the sea turtle fly around the shed for the first time.

“I still think we should give Tarzan sentience,” Harley said petulantly as he landed the turtle in his charging station.

“What, so he can catch a bullet from one of your neighbors while you’re in class?” Tony asked in an incredulous deadpan.

“Only Mr. Wilkner is crazy enough to try,” Harley reasoned, keeping a small grin at bay while he stared up at Tony innocently.

“Mr. Wilkner… who lives next door,” Tony replied dryly. The old man was almost never seen without his rifle as he surveyed his neighbors from his front porch. Tony didn’t doubt for a minute that the old man would gun down Harley’s drone and claim he was preventing Skynet. “No bot should live in fear for his life on a daily basis.”

 _“CHARLIE_ thought it was a good idea,” the ten-year-old grumbled petulantly.

 _“And I still do!”_ CHARLIE chirped from his portable speaker.

“Yeah, well CHARLIE has the decision-making skills of a drunk toddler.” Tony replied dryly, fully aware that _he_ was the one who gave the AI said decision-making skills. “I wouldn’t be going to him for words of wisdom.”

Harley eyed him, absently fiddling with Tarzan's controls. “Doesn’t he hack the Pentagon like, once a week?”

“You will too, once you’re old enough,” Tony waved dismissively.

The kid perked up, eyes glittering with excitement, “Will I be old enough tomorrow?”

 _“Sir,”_ JARVIS cut in swiftly, _“I believe it is pertinent to remind you that you promised the elder Ms. Keener that no illegal activity would occur during these crafting sessions.”_

Tony shrugged in faux helplessness, gesturing to the speaker on the workbench, “You heard the man.”

Harley frowned emphatically, giving his sea turtle a forlorn little pat, “One day, Tarzan.”

Tony rolled his eyes in response, a smart reply on the tip of his tongue when the door to the shed opened. He looked up to meet his husband’s eyes, a question in his own. Rhodey had left to meet Madeline when she’d gotten back to the house, and an abnormally large amount of time had passed since then.

Rhodey shook his head ever so slightly, sliding his eyes towards Harley with a purpose.

Well, _that_ couldn’t be good.

“Okay, off you go, you little Keebler elf,” Tony said casually, waving Harley away from the workbench, “The workshop is closed for the night.”

 _“Already?”_ Harley looked up from his new pet with sad eyes that looked too real to be manipulative, “Can’t we keep going?”

“Your aunt sets the rules, not us,” he shrugged, holding his hands up in a white flag. Tony would've loved to keep going. He wanted nothing more than to distract Harley into the wee hours of the morning. But he knew enough about kids to know they needed to sleep, especially when they were as tiny as Harley was. “Take it up with her if you’re feeling brave, kid.”

Harley seemed to realize that would be fighting a losing battle, and he slumped in defeat. His head popped up moments later, reinvigorated, “Can I show you my fire extinguisher tomorrow?” He bounced on the balls of his feet, and the excited look in his eyes returned with vigor. “It’s kind of loud, but it’s also _really_ cool.”

Rhodey’s head tilted to the side, and Tony could see the smile he was trying to hold back as he gave Harley a considering look, “You know, Mellie specifically told us _not_ to let you near fire.”

Harley shrugged, eyes wide and innocent and entirely unconvincing. “Aunt Mellie says a lot of stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure she does,” Rhodey nodded in faux agreement, an amused smile teasing its way onto his face.

“Yeah, I think it’s a lawyer thing,” Harley agreed. He rocked back on his heels, “So… fire extinguisher?”

Rhodey was entirely unbothered by the idea, “As long as I set the fire.”

Harley dropped his act in favor of incredulous protest, a pout forming in earnest, “But setting the fire’s the best part!”

Tony let himself ruffle Harley’s hair, an amused smile on his face, “Nice try, spud, but Rhodey’s more immune to that schtick than I am.”

“Benefits of having a niece,” Rhodey shrugged, a _what can you do?_ expression on his face that looked suspiciously like a smug grin.

“It’s not a benefit to _me_ ,” the child bemoaned dramatically. “Lila’s already tried everything.”

“What, you’re saying you’re giving up?” Rhodey challenged, an amused glint in his eyes.

 _“No,”_ Harley replied hotly. Tony absolutely did _not_ smile endearingly at the way the boy took on a look of determination only a grade-schooler could. He bid them both an emphatic goodbye before heading into his house, Tarzan in tow.

Rhodey chuckled, his smile a little bit sad, “I would feel bad for poking the bear cub, but I think he could use the extra distraction.”

Tony cocked his head to the side as he processed the phrasing. He eyed his husband warily, “You got some shoes to take off before we head back, Rhodeybear?”

“How bad do I look that _you’re_ the one asking _me_ this?” Rhodey snorted.

“Bad enough,” Tony replied, deceptively casual in a way he knew his husband could see through. He glanced away, tapping out a nervous, little pattern into the workbench. Seeing his husband’s brown eyes so _exhausted_ always made his stomach do dangerous little flips, and he didn’t like it one bit. “I know we’re not at home, but still.”

Rhodey took a moment before sighing heavily, his entire body taking part in the movement. He sat down on the couch, and the motion seemed to sap all of his energy. Tony sat down next to him, and his husband leaned into him, “Yeah, I got some shoes.”

“Lay it on me, Platypus.”

“… Abby wants hospice care,” the words sounded foreign on his lips, like Rhodey hadn’t quite processed them before he’d let them out and was just regurgitating the information before it could settle inside him.

Like he was worried what would happen if it did.

Tony didn’t blame him.

 _“Shit,”_ Tony breathed. “Already?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey nodded, subdued. “That’s why Madeline was late tonight. She was trying to convince Abby to try one of the treatment plans.”

“Well, why couldn’t she?”

“Abby doesn’t want Harley to have to see her go through it all,” he swallowed thickly. “Doesn’t want to ruin his memory of her.”

It didn’t take Tony long to fill in the blanks. “So, it’s Stage Four.”

“Yeah, and it’s _bad,_ Tones,” Rhodey nodded, sad and emphatic as he wallowed in his empathy. “They don’t know if she’ll make it to Easter.”

The conflated parallels weren’t lost on Tony.

He swallowed thickly, shoving thoughts of his mother, Jarvis, and Ana deep down inside where he didn’t have to acknowledge them. “How're they gonna break it to the kid?”

“Abby wants to ease him into it, but—”

“He'll freak,” Tony cut him off. “Rhodey, he’ll _freak.”_

“Yeah, Tones, I know,” Rhodey huffed, but Tony knew his husband was mad at the situation, not at him. “I just… no kid deserves that, but _Harley?_ He’s already been through too much shit.”

“Like looking in a mirror sometimes, isn’t it?”

Rhodey hummed in agreement, but it was a sad sound. “Madeline told me he didn’t talk for a _week_ when his dad left.” He shook his head, “I don’t want to think about what’ll happen when he loses Abby.”

 _When,_ not if.

Because it wasn’t a worry anymore, it was a guarantee. And there was nothing either of them could do about it.

“I wish we could take him back to New York with us,” Rhodey admitted quietly. “It’s selfish of me, but I want to.”

Tony snorted, “Jim, you are the least selfish person I’ve ever met.”

“Tones—”

“No, I bet Thor’s magic hammer would choose you in a heartbeat,” Tony cut him off swiftly. When Rhodey only rolled his eyes in reply, Tony made an admission of his own, “… And I want him too, so.”

“His whole life is here,” Rhodey pointed out, a little bit sad as he said it. “Lexie and Madeline… I could never take them away from him.”

And… that was it, wasn’t it?

No matter how much they both wanted Harley, they could never have him, not in the way they wanted. He wasn’t theirs, and they’d never take him by force.

“The day he met me, he almost died,” Tony said conversationally, as if he would ever be able to hide the guilt he felt about putting Harley’s life in danger like that. As if that would make this hurt any less. “I’ll _never_ be Howard, but I don’t think I have it in me to be Jarvis.”

“Well, he already likes Tony,” Rhodey reminded him, “so I’d stick with being yourself.”

“Never _did_ manage to nail the accent,” Tony gave his husband a wry smile.

“Yeah,” Rhodey huffed out a dry laugh. He paused, swallowing thickly before he continued, mind made up. “We’ll do whatever we can for him.”

“That and more,” Tony promised, if only to make himself feel better.

“… And then Rhodey started the fire, even though I _totally_ could’ve done it myself,” Harley had a small pout on his face as he looked back at Jim sourly from his place on his mom’s bed.

“At least we know you didn’t cheat,” Jim shrugged helplessly.

“How could I cheat at _fire?”_ Harley’s eyes widened incredulously.

“We’ll show you later,” Tony waved dismissively.

Harley squinted suspiciously at the two before deciding it wasn’t worth it and turning back around. _“Anyway,_ then I adjusted the frequency to make the sound really low, and it _worked,”_ he explained, a proud little grin on his face as he beamed at his mom.

Abby beamed right back, dimples matching her son’s as she gave him a little bop on the nose. “I knew it would. How’s the sound?”

Harley's face contorted into a small grimace, “ _It’s_ _really_ loud right now, so I have to wear those big headphones on top of my earplugs, but I’m working on it! I think if I can concentrate the direction, then I can make it quieter without losing power.”

“It’s feasible,” Tony agreed easily. “He already beat DARPA, so anything else he figures out is just a victory lap.”

“DARPA are military scientists,” Harley informed his mom, his proud little grin making a comeback. “Tony said they asked him for help because they were stuck, but I made this _without_ him.”

“Told you those ears of yours are special,” Abby gave him a pointed look, telling Jim that Harley’s sensitive ears were something they’d gone over multiple times. “Now then, you’ve been telling me all about this sonic extinguisher of yours, but how’s your homework looking?”

“Finished it in the car,” Harley reported dismissively. He gave his mom a look, “It’s just multiplying fractions, that’s _baby stuff.”_

“Of course,” Abby replied, an impish smile on her face that reminded Jim so much of her son.

“Hold on, didn’t you skip a grade?” Tony quirked his head to the side in amusement. “Doesn’t that make you even more of a baby?”

“Didn’t you skip _three?”_ Harley shot back.

“Nah, that was Platypus,” Tony corrected. He grinned down at the kid cheekily, “I skipped four.”

When Harley looked to Jim in question, abandoning the original topic in its entirety, the man shrugged casually in reply, “My school district refused to let me out without a learner’s permit because they were convinced that I couldn’t read.”

“Mine tried to hold me back,” Harley made a face that told Jim just how much he’d appreciated _that_ suggestion. “They thought my ears made me stupid.”

“When I stopped homeschooling, people thought my hands made me stupid,” Tony rolled his eyes. “I was ten and in high school, and they thought I was _stupid.”_

“Well, _your_ ears helped you make a sonic extinguisher, _your_ hands helped you miniaturize an arc reactor, and I’m pretty sure _I_ know how to read, so it’s obvious that _none_ of us are stupid,” Jim said, a finality to his words.

 _“They’re_ stupid for thinking that,” Harley nodded solemnly.

“It’s more ableism, but sure,” Tony shrugged.

“Stupid _and_ ableist,” the kid amended.

Harley hopped off his mom’s bed and moved to readjust the pillows around her with the focus of a practiced neurosurgeon. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before turning to give Jim and Tony a stern look. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Make sure she stays comfy.”

When the two had given him a sufficient enough promise, Harley slipped out of the room.

Abby waited for the door to click shut before turning back to Jim and Tony, casting them both thoughtful gazes. Jim could see the question in her eyes, but he had no idea what it could possibly be.

“Can you two be guardians, legally?”

Oh.

 _That_ was the question.

“I know marriage isn’t legal for y’all in Tennessee yet,” Abby continued on hesitantly when neither man said anything, “but if I put it in my will, then they have to honor that, right?”

“Abby—” Tony began carefully, but she cut him off.

“I’m in hospice, Tony,” she gave him a rueful smile. “We all know what that means.”

A somber silence fell over the room.

“I don’t want to force him on you, so if you can’t, I understand,” she said quietly. “You’re just so good with him that I have to ask, or I’d regret it.”

“Okay _one,_ you wouldn’t be forcing him on us,” Tony said quickly. “I love that kid, we both do.”

“Yeah, Abby, we’re _honored_ that you would trust us with him,” Jim assured her. He wanted to say yes more than _anything,_ but it didn’t feel right. “It’s just… what about Madeline? Are you sure she wouldn’t be offended?”

To their surprise, Abby let out a laugh, shaking her head, “She’d be _grateful._ I’m sure if I asked, Mellie would say yes, but that wouldn’t be fair to her or Harley. Even if she could change her hours to be there for him more, he looks too much like his daddy for them to ever truly be at peace with each other.”

Jim did a quick evaluation of Abby’s features.

Harley was very obviously her child, but he didn’t have the same green eyes the rest of the Keeners did. His hair was also the lightest of the four, Abby’s strawberry blonde coming in a close second. Jim had just dismissed the differences as recessive genes since the family was so alike in almost all other ways, but it was obvious to him now that Harley’s differences came from an absentee father.

“Besides, it’s not Mellie I’m worried about, it’s Rose Hill,” Abby clarified. “Harley Joe is one of the sweetest boys you’ll ever meet, but he gets into trouble with people who don’t understand him. Rose Hill… I’ll _always_ love Rose Hill, but I don’t think Harley ever has.”

“I don’t blame him,” Tony muttered to himself.

_“Tones.”_

Tony’s mind caught up with his mouth a second later, and his eyes darted to Abby, “That’s not what I meant, I swear.”

“What did you mean?” Abby’s voice was just as patient as it was when she spoke to Harley. And if Jim didn’t already know it, it was just one more reason proving she was the reason Harley was doing as well as he was in Rose Hill.

Tony took a moment to choose his words more carefully, “The kid watched MythBusters talk about cold plasma for five minutes and decided to put out fires with _sound waves.”_ He gestured emphatically, the words he was looking for evading him ever so slightly, “That’s just how it _goes_ when you’re that smart.”

“He’s saying Harley needs the mental challenge,” Jim filled in.

“That,” Tony snap-pointed to Jim, eyes lighting up. He turned to Abby, “There are very few places you can drop a kid that smart without any issue. Even fewer if he’s autistic.”

“My last two years in Philly, I think I got detention five or six times each year,” Jim thought back. “It just comes with the territory with neurodiversity.”

“So, if you’re thinking it’s your fault for not raising him somewhere else, it’s really not,” Tony said firmly. “You did the best you could, Abby.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if it was enough,” she admitted quietly, “if Harley will get to be like the two of you, all grown up and well-adjusted.”

“I’m hardly the benchmark you wanna shoot for,” Tony snorted, but the dismissive air didn’t hide the way he stood a little straighter at Abby’s praise. He knocked into Jim’s side playfully, “Platypus here might give him a run for his money though.”

Jim gave his husband a sideways glance, “Remember, we’re a package deal now. You’re in this race as long as I am.”

“We’ve been a package deal since the nineties,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I’m not sure how that changes anything,” Jim said pointedly.

Tony quirked his head in consideration, a small smile taking over his expression before he looked back to Abby, “He’ll have to beat us in a trial by combat, but odds are that your parenting will give him the edge he needs to win and successfully grow into a well-adjusted adult.”

“I wish I could be there to see it, but I’m sure it’ll be spectacular,” Abby’s smile had only ever been that bright around her son. “You’ll give him the future he deserves?”

This time, the two agreed without any hesitation.

Harley came back a few minutes later, making a beeline to his mom’s side. He evaluated her quickly before meeting her eyes, “Are you still comfy?”

“Even comfier now that you’re back with me,” Abby cupped his face gently, a soft smile on her face.

Harley stared at her for a few more beats, the room silent aside from the steady beep of medical equipment. What he was looking for, Jim couldn’t tell, but he knew the boy had gotten his answer when he turned on them, a frown on his face.

“What happened?” he asked, more nervous than anything else. When neither man said anything, his frown deepened. His voice was panicked as took another step towards them, “What did you say to her?”

“Come here, baby,” Abby took his hand and gently tugged him back towards her.

“You’re _sad,_ ” Harley said, emphatic in his panic, big blue eyes filled with concern. “You weren’t sad when I left. Why are you sad now?”

“It’s nothing bad, little light,” she assured him. “I just want to talk to you for a little bit, just the two of us. Jim and Tony will give us some privacy.”

Harley turned back to look at them, confused and sad as he looked for answers in their body language. He didn’t get very far before Abby gave another gentle tug and guided him back to his place on her bed.

“There’s space for you right here, yep, that’s it, right in my arms where you belong.” Abby looked to them once Harley was settled on her bed with her, a soft smile on her face, “We won’t be long.”

Jim nodded, “We'll be right outside if you need us.”

He and Tony left the room, taking a seat on the bench outside Abby’s room.

“Realistically speaking, how badly could this go?” Tony asked casually. If Jim took him at tone alone, his husband was perfectly calm as he posed the question. But the nervous energy was obvious as he fiddled with an origami star he’d folded a few days earlier, the fidget cube he usually carried still in Harley’s possession.

If Jim didn’t know better, he would’ve asked Tony for his shoes. “Define bad.”

“Bad like Harley hates the idea of living with us,” Tony said as the paper star twirled across his fingers in practiced moves. It reminded Jim of their college days, of the late nights when Tony would work through equations with one hand and put his stars through award-winning cirque routines with the other.

It was oddly comforting.

“I don’t think it’ll be bad,” Jim said confidently. “I think Harley might have trouble processing it, but if we can’t help him through that, then Abby made the wrong choice in trusting us.”

Tony frowned, star slowing down as he thought it over, “Abby’s probably known since the first night that she wouldn’t be able to watch Harley grow up. She asked us today, but she made her decision a while ago. She wouldn’t have done this without thinking it through.”

“Then it won’t be bad,” Jim concluded.

He watched as Tony processed the rationale. His husband’s nervous energy faded back to the normal hummingbird frequency, and the origami star traveled across his fingers at a steadier rate. “Good point, Rhodeybear.”

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, and neither man knew what to say when Harley left his mother’s room a few minutes later. His eyes were rimmed with red, tears still clouding his gaze.

“… You actually want me?” the quiet disbelief in his voice made Jim’s heart ache.

“With our whole hearts, kid,” Tony replied swiftly, earnest and awkward.

“If you’ll have us,” Jim followed up.

Harley looked between them both, sniffling quietly before he gave a little nod, “Only… only if she’s not okay.”

And Jim knew that there was no way Harley’s mother was going to make it through, but he returned the boy’s nod, a gentle smile on his face, “Only if she’s not okay.”

Abby passed three days later.

It happened mere hours after she had updated her will to list Jim and Tony as her chosen guardians for Harley, almost as if her body was only holding on until she was sure her son would be okay without her. She’d asked for a few minutes alone with him before the trio left for the evening, and it turned out that they were her last minutes with anybody.

When Harley finally left her room, his eyes held unshed tears.

He gave Jim and Tony a quick glance before making a beeline to the elevator, dodging both men’s attempts to redirect him somewhere else to calm down before they left. The tension running through his body was obvious despite his best efforts at masking, and as they headed back to the parking garage in silence, the tears silently began to fall. He said nothing the entire way down, stubbornly pushing forward each time they tried to stop and check on him.

When they got him into the car, the dam broke loose.

Harley drew himself into a ball in the backseat, rocking back and forth in an attempt to self-soothe. He tried to hold it in as best as he could, but it only took a shuddering gasp for him to start sobbing. Whatever had happened with his mom had wracked his tiny system, and a gut-wrenching sound of pure distress escaped that ripped at Jim's heart.

Tony’s eyes went wide at the sound, and after a brief moment of brain-glitching panic, he was taking a knee next to the open car door, giving Harley space while keeping him clearly in sight. _“Breathe_ , spud, can you do that for me?”

Harley shook his head emphatically, crying harder as his words continued to escape him.

“Not a problem, I can help you figure it out,” Tony joined him in the backseat, rambling the entire way. “Returning the favor from all those times you helped me. Hell, you helped me on my _wedding day,_ it’s the least I can do. My lung capacity is shot, but if you put your hand here, then you can feel…”

Jim turned to move to the other side of the car, but before he could take a step, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Frustrated, he fished it out, fully intending to send whichever military officer it was straight to voicemail when he saw _Madeline Keener_ flashing on the screen.

A sinking feeling entered Jim's gut.

Madeline had at least three more hours left at the firm, and she never called them while she was working. Honestly, she never called them _at all_. Whenever they spoke, it was in person at the end of the day, and that was just to confirm that Tony hadn’t let Harley do any structural damage to their home.

Jim had only exchanged numbers with her as a _formality._

But now, as he looked from his phone to the boy and back again, Jim knew exactly how this conversation was going to go.

He picked up, swallowing down the dread as far as it would go, “Madeline?”

Tony’s head snapped up, attention straying from Harley's hiccupping breaths long enough for Jim to see the question in his eyes.

 _“Dr. Anderson called,”_ the woman’s voice was thick with unshed tears, the steady quality she had maintained throughout the past week and a half wavering for the first time. _“Abby… she’s—my_ god, _she’s_ gone.”

Jim took a steadying breath before he gave his husband a somber nod.

“Oh, _spud,”_ Tony said sadly, eyes clouding over in understanding. “C'mere, kid.”

Jim walked around to the other side of the car, “Madeline, I’m so sorry.”

There was a deep inhale and exhale on the other end before Madeline’s quiet, sullen reply, _“Thank you, James.”_

“Anything you need, consider it done,” Jim promised.

He was met with a brief silence as Madeline took another deep, steadying breath. _“Are you still at the hospital?”_

Jim stood straighter, “We’re in the parking garage, do you need me to do something?”

 _“No, it’s just… they told me Harley had to have been in there_ minutes _before it happened.”_ Madeline’s words settled uncomfortably in Jim’s mind, a heart-wrenching meaning to them. _“Is he… how is he?”_

“I think he knew,” Jim replied softly, keeping a careful eye on Tony and Harley in the backseat. Tony held onto him now, rocking in time with the boy as he sobbed into his chest. “I don’t know what she said to him in there, but he definitely knew when we left.”

 _“I'll let you get back to him then.”_ There was an awkward pause before she continued, _“In… in Abby's room, there’s this blanket, it’s white and purple and covered with sea turtles. On his worst days, she’d bring it out and they would wrap themselves up in it together.”_

“Thank you, Madeline,” Jim said, meaning it with every inch of his heart. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

 _“It’s in the top drawer on the right side, next to her guitar,”_ she said in lieu of a direct response. _“I’ll be back early tonight, so we can talk then.”_

The call disconnected abruptly, but Jim couldn’t blame her.

Madeline was a protector. She handled things so that others didn’t have to. She hadn’t flinched at the prospect of paying medical bills that so many families went bankrupt over, and that alone spoke to a financial comfort she could’ve easily used to live closer to her job in the city. Madeline didn’t need to share a home with Abby, but she made the hour-long commute each way, morning and night, just so she could continue to live in the small, unincorporated community that she grew up in.

Because Abby loved Rose Hill, and Abby was her little sister.

Jim had heard more than a few stories about Mellie Rose Keener as he talked to people around town. Madeline had spent so much of her life caring for her younger sister, holding everything together on her own with the kind of steady composure most people only dreamed of.

But now Abby was gone, and Madeline wouldn’t be able to hold in that kind of hurt no matter how hard she tried.

Jim pocketed his phone and let out a heavy sigh. There was so much to think about and plan for and work towards, but he pushed it all away, just for a moment.

For now, he joined Tony in the backseat and held Harley as the boy mourned his mother in the only way he knew how.

Harley hadn’t said a word in days.

Rhodey and Tony hadn’t left his side, sticking with him through it all as different Rose Hill residents came up to him during the wake and funeral with stories about his mom throughout her life.

Rose Hill loved Abby Keener just as much as she loved them, and while it was nice to see the outpouring of affection, it was also suffocating.

It made Tony think of his mom’s funeral, how all the people crowded him with stories about her and Howard. Jarvis and Ana were already gone by then, and his grandparents had been too sick to come, so he had been the sole target.

But Rhodey had been with him every step of the way, shielding him from people when he couldn’t bring himself to keep up appearances. And now, the two of them did it for Harley, forming a physical barrier when things were too much for him to handle and taking him somewhere quiet to calm down.

It felt natural, caring for him like that, but Tony wished he could have found that out under different circumstances.

With a heavy sigh, he closed the trunk to the car JARVIS had driven down two weeks earlier. Harley had said his goodbyes the day before, and they were getting the last of the things he wanted to take back to New York.

“Are arc reactors street legal?” Tony looked up to see Madeline standing to the side of him, eyeing the electric car suspiciously. It looked normal enough at first glance, but the more you looked at the minivan the clearer it became that it was a customized vehicle.

Never mind that the arc reactor casing wrapped around the bottom gave the underside a futuristic glow in the evening light.

“Haven’t got a ticket yet,” Tony grinned back.

“A billionaire getting out of a ticket isn’t very impressive, Mr. Stark,” Madeline replied dryly.

“Don’t you have faith in me, Maddie? I'm hurt,” he gave her a sad look, putting his hand on his chest.

She gave him a pointed look, “I haven’t gone by Maddie a day in my life, _Anthony_.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Tony held his hands up in surrender, a grin teasing onto his face. It faded into something more genuine when his arms fell back to his side, “Thank you again, by the way for helping us out with that judge.”

Turns out the custody judge was an _asshole._

And it wasn’t like they hadn’t been expecting some pushback from the courts.

Tony had had multiple public breakdowns over the years, and the most recent had seen him giving his address to a _terrorist._ That was a bad look when you were trying to get custody of a child, and it was something Tony had expected to get questioned about.

Rhodey and Tony had _both_ been expecting to be grilled about their careers and the dangers they posed to Harley getting a normal upbringing. They had expected questions about Tony’s recent dealings with the Mandarin. They’d even been expecting the punch to the gut that was Harley getting nabbed by Savin because he had been seen with Tony.

They _hadn’t_ been expecting Abby's will to be treated like a suggestion.

They hadn’t been expected Madeline to be summoned to court and told she could have custody of Harley if she wanted it, no questions asked. They hadn’t been expecting the judge to reason that Harley would need a woman’s influence in raising him.

So, yeah, an asshole. 

But Madeline had turned the judge down and refused to let the man try to convince her otherwise. Not because she didn’t love her nephew, but because she trusted Rhodey and Tony to take care of him.

“I was being honest,” Madeline waved her hand dismissively. “You’re good with Harley _,_ both of you, and you can accommodate him better than I would be able to.”

“Helps that I have experience accommodating myself,” Tony shrugged awkwardly. “You pick up a few things over the years.” 

“Helps that you have a _heart,”_ Madeline corrected. When he went to contradict her, she shook her head with a disapproving hum. “Don’t even try it. Every time you and James are with him, it’s obvious how much you care.”

Her point was punctuated by Harley and Rhodey coming out of the house. His husband was keeping up a steady stream of conversation as he carried Harley’s sea turtle blanket like the precious cargo it was. Harley was fiddling with Tarzan’s controls, the drone making lazy circles as it hovered next to him, but he was engaged in whatever Rhodey was talking about.

“…And if Tony ever leaves out those details, he’s a filthy liar,” Rhodey finished up as they arrived at the car.

Tony quirked his head to the side, brow raised, “What slanderous tales are you telling about me, Honeybear?”

“The Home Depot Debacle of Ninety-Eight isn’t _slander,”_ Rhodey snorted out a laugh.

“You mean when I won Boyfriend of the Year?” Tony pretended to think back, a pensive look on his face. He knew exactly what his husband was talking about and had no problem defending himself because he had done _nothing_ wrong that night. “Yeah, I think that’s when I won Boyfriend of the Year.”

“You see what I have to work with here?” Rhodey said as an aside to Harley, and the small smile the boy gave back made Tony let the slander slide, just this once.

He rolled his eyes in faux exasperation before looking to Harley. “I’ll tell you some stories about Honeybear on the ride back, just to make it fair.” He winked conspiratorially, “My personal favorite is the three am rant on Captain America’s arctic dive that _inspired_ my Boyfriend of the Year award.”

“Okay, let’s get you into the car.” Tony snorted out a laugh as Rhodey shuffled Harley over to the car door with a swiftness. The comedy faded to compassion as Harley got settled into his seat, “So, your blanket is fair game, but Tarzan’s gonna have to power down for the drive.”

Harley must have made a face at him because Rhodey nodded in understanding, “Yeah, it sucks, but we’re already pushing it with having JARVIS drive us back overnight. You can break him out when we hit our morning rest stop for however long you want to, sound fair?” After another pause, Rhodey gave the blanket a pat, “Pleasure bargaining with you, kid.”

He stood up from the car door and gave Tony a nod, “We’re good to go.”

“Well, that’s my cue,” Tony turned back to Madeline. “Any last-minute advice?”

Harley’s aunt took a few seconds to think before she answered, purposeful in the information she gave them. “Don’t worry if it takes a few days for him to find his words again. He just needs to get settled,” Madeline assured them. “Oh, and he’s never been to an aquarium before, so that should be the first place you take him.”

“The aquarium in Coney Island has sea turtles, right?” Tony looked to Rhodey in question.

Rhodey hummed out an affirmative, “Yeah, I saw them when I took Lila last summer.”

Tony nodded, turning back to Madeline, “An aquarium trip with a sea turtle encounter is at the top of the list.”

“Then I think you’ll be fine,” she nodded back, an amused smile teasing its way onto her lips. She gestured to the backseat window, and the two turned to see Harley starting to nod off, “I know you’re not driving yourselves, but it’s getting late.”

Their goodbye was vastly different from their hello two weeks earlier. The three adults now stood on equal ground, a shared understanding bringing them closer together. They made promises to talk through trips between New York and Tennessee so that Lexie and Harley could still see each other as much as possible.

It was a new normal, but it was a comfortable one.

“You ready to go, spud?” Tony asked after he and Rhodey settled into their seats next to the kid, careful to keep his voice low.

Harley nodded from his blanket cocoon sleepily, eyes finally dropping shut as he burrowed further into his seat.

The sight made Tony’s heart swell with warmth, and he couldn’t help his smile as he leaned back into his seat, “Take us home, JARVIS.”

And as the AI silently pulled the car out onto the dirt road, Tony let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for reading, i hope you enjoyed!!! 
> 
> and just an fyi!! harley’s pov on his last moments with his mama will come in another fic called _backronyms_ that’s like… number seven on the list of yet-to-be-written fics i have planned out for this series??? idk the timeline is organized chronologically in my notes, so it’ll get posted when it’s posted lol.
> 
> also i have a [tumblr](starkslovemail.tumblr.com) if you wanna stop by and say hello or talk about the series, okay thanks byeeeee ✌🏾😗


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